


Sweat

by mertlekang



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:45:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8695147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mertlekang/pseuds/mertlekang
Summary: Jinyoung, a student struggling with finances, becomes a stripper at the suggestion of his roommate. Taking it as an oppurtunity to write his thesis, he begins to interview the men who visit the club. One man, however, is unlike the rest.





	1. One

Jinyoung lived his life buried beneath textbooks and novels, eating ramen in the blue glow of his laptop screen in a silent dorm long beyond the witching hour almost every night. Between studying and working his part time job, he only ever found time to study a little harder. His social life was sub-par, though he still scraped together enough cash for a beer or two with his roommate every now and then. 

Taking a Masters degree without any financial help quickly became too unmanageable, even for someone as penny pinching as Jinyoung. It was out of the question to ask his parents for help – there wasn't much they could give him, and they'd never had much of a relationship. 

So, one night, after tears and plenty of soju, he finally turned to his roommate, Jackson, for help. 

'Strip with me.' 

'What?' 

'Just try it, you'll be making more money in two nights than you get in your shitty bartending job in six months.' 

At first he was appalled at the idea, but Jackson was a convincing guy. Soon enough he was being dragged to watch Jackson perform, and while he sat red faced and cringing in his seat he was surprised at how far away it was from his expectations. Jackson kept most of his clothes on, and though there were indeed men waving tips and stuffing them down his pants, it didn't seem too bad as Jackson swung his hips this way and that, lost in the beat and throwing a heated gaze around the room.  

Still, it didn't look easy, and indeed it wasn't. Jackson warned him of just how difficult it was, but Jinyoung was too desperate to pass up the opportunity. They danced after lectures, worked out before breakfast and turned tricks on a makeshift stripper pole in their dorm far too late at night. 

After almost four months, he was more toned than he'd ever been in his life and he'd be lying if he said he didn't get slightly flustered by his reflection every now and then. For the first time in his life he actually noticed the glances people shot at him when he passed them on the street, and found he didn't mind it all too much. 

His first night on the pole went by in a blur. One moment Jackson said he'd talk to the manager, and the next he was oiled up, half naked and sorely missing his glasses. The lights were hot and bright, the music shaking his bones and he couldn't count how many times he'd nearly slipped and broken his neck because of how sweaty his palms were against the pole. He didn't know if he was making eye contact with the crowd, or what his face looked like, just that there was a beat he could follow and tips were crinkling beneath his feet and filling his underwear. What few clothes he was wearing were stuck to him, his hear soaked with perspiration and the flashing lights dizzying him until Jackson was dragging him from the stage with glee and childlike excitement. 

'You did great! You should probably lay off the booze before you go out next time, though.' 

'I'm sober.' 

'Okay, then maybe you shot do a shot or two. Other than that, welcome to the club.' 

It's another week before he goes back to the club. When he wasn't studying or working his regular job as a bartender, he rolled his body before his bedroom mirror, shot sultry looks at himself while he brushed his teeth, bought the right prescription of contact lenses and a pair of boxers that hugged him just right when he was on his knees. 

This time he could see the men at his feet as they stared up at him, comfortably leaning back in their seats. Almost all were in suits, sipping their drinks as if watching something calm and innocent. It was from then on Jinyoung decided it wasn't too much of a waste to be working there – he was earning plenty, he was healthy, and the thesis he'd been tearing his hair out over finally had a theme. After a while it wasn't the men watching him, it was Jinyoung watching them. 

He studied them. The way they sat, whether they held their drinks in their right or left hand, if they crossed their legs or leant back and spread them. What clothes they wore, if their suits were expensive or cheap. Whether they had a ring on their finger or if they'd slipped it off the moment Jinyoung was on his knees. What part of his body were they watching? How did they react when he turned just like that? 

Soon enough he knew the regulars, knew where they'd be sat and how much they'd tip. Sometimes he'd take on a longer shift and be bookable by the hour, sitting with the men and hearing what they wanted to say. Most of it was utter drawl, them telling him what they'd do to him if they could, how he was too good to be working here or how sorry they felt for him. Most of them assumed he was a seductress, a regular nancy boy. That working in a strip club meant he knew every position and wasn't afraid to spread himself for anybody who glanced at him. Of course he had to be coy, smirk at the innuendoes and pout at their teasing. That was the boring part, but everything was useful for his means.  

Some men talked of their wives, how they'd leave them if they ever knew. Some of them had children, and were ashamed to meet his eyes. Some were just tired from work, too lonely to go home to an empty apartment and too afraid to meet a man somewhere else. And some were just there to be entertained. 

One man never paid for Jinyoung's time, and he never tipped. He would sit and watch him dance every weekend, taking the same seat and drinking the same drink. When he watched, he only looked at Jinyoung's face with intrigue, as if he was analyzing Jinyoung the same way Jinyoung was analysing him. 

He was handsome like a fox, probably moreso for his mystery and apparent disinterest in the goods Jinyoung was offering. He was young, but not as young as Jinyoung. His clothes were fine, a long coat over a dress shirt and black jeans, shoes free of scuff marks and well shined.  

The more Jinyoung danced, the more he paid attention to this man, frustrated whenever he left. There were a few occasions where he didn't come at all, and Jinyoung found himself looking for his face in the crowd with anxiety and disappointment, slightly embarrassed to find himself relieved when he found him there in his usual seat the following weekend. Of course, it was only professional curiosity that caused him the dismay. He simply wanted to interview the man, but one time when he did manage to catch him before he could leave and ask him if he'd like to pay for a session, he was rebuked. 

He let it slide. He was never someone to give up, but he wasn't going to force the man to participate in his research. Still, his eyes always wandered to the seat just to the left of the stage even when sweat dripped into his eyes, and it was a lie to say it didn't thrill him when there were thin black eyes staring back. 

By the time he had to submit the first draft of his thesis and research for review, he'd taken on an extra two shifts a week and knew almost every dancer and customer in the club. It didn't take any toll on his coursework, if anything he was simply doing extra research, but there was no doubt he was nervous to hand his papers over to his stern and unwelcoming lecturer.  

Surprisingly she didn't seem to care, only pointing out mundanities of referencing and proper research methods. He was pretty sure his parents had guessed he was gay already, but having a lecturer snitch on him would have been a real shitheap.  

Still, working so hard took its toll, because Jinyoung had never known when to rest. It was mid-winter when he fell ill, succumbing to the warmth of his duvet for a week. One night when he was feeling especially sorry for himself, Jackson returned home with some takeout and a message. Apparently a man had asked after him; 'a guy with really thin eyes. He had nice shoes.' 

When Jinyoung returned to work the next weekend, the man was sat in his usual seat. As always he made a quick dash for the exit as soon as Jinyoung's stage was finished, but he caught the man by the arm before he could disappear once more. Jinyoung offered a free session, not forgetting the mans refusal last time, but it seemed the man genuinely wished to speak with him this time and he acquiesced easily. 

The man followed him to a dimly lit booth far from the pounding music and flashing lights. When they sat, Jinyoung was once again taken by the mans handsome features now glowing in the red lamplight, his sharp jaw and just how unafraid he was to stare.  

He didn’t bother to simper as he would other customers, instead speaking frankly. 

'You asked for me, didn't you?' A moment passed in which the man looked slightly uncomfortable before he nodded. 'Why?' 

'I wanted to know if you were well. This is a dangerous job.' The mans voice was deep yet seemed to ring from high in the back of his throat, like a bell ringing. 

'I'm well, it was just a cold.' 

'I'm glad. Sorry, I find this rather awkward.' He gestured between them with an awkward smile, and Jinyoung just winked. 

'Try being in my shoes.' 

It drew a small laugh from the man, before he shrugged slightly. 'What are we supposed to talk about? An hour is a long time.' 

'It depends who I'm talking to, sometimes the time flies and other times I'm ready to pull my hair out after ten minutes.' 

'And what could a man possibly say to drive you to such a feeling? I'll take notes and make sure I avoid it.' 

He even made a mime of taking out a notebook, and Jinyoung rolled his eyes at his glibness. 'Some men like to divulge a little too much information with the knowledge that I'm being paid to listen. They're the kind of guys who'll spend the hour telling me where they want to touch me and how much of a dirty slut I must be if I'm working in a place like this. It shocked me a lot when I started, but I find it sort of funny now. They actually think they're turning me on or something, and who am I to deny them that fantasy?' 

'And if I might ask, who are you if not the dirty slut they imagine you to be?' 

'I'm just a college kid trying to make a quick buck. I like sweaters and comfortable shoes. 

'Sexy.' 

'If that's what you're into, let me be your fantasy.' Jinyoung drawled seductively, and the man smirked. 

'Should I start tipping you in ramen and college text books?' 

'Fuck,' Jinyoung threw his head back, biting his lip. 'You're getting me so hot.' 

Jinyoung quickly came to enjoy the sound of the mans laugh, and the way a smile looked on his lips. 

 

Late one night, Jinyoung turned to whisper over at Jackson as he turned in his bed whether he knew anything about the man. All Jackson said was that he arrives when Jinyoung's show starts and usually leaves immediately afterwards, and though he'd seen him drinking at the bar every now and then before Jinyoung had started working there, he'd never sat to watch a show until he showed up. At the funny look in Jackson's eyes, he'd rolled away to face the wall with a groan, telling him to stop thinking dirty things – he simply thought the man could be a good interview subject for his thesis. 

 

Jinyoung finds that he's started to look forward to Saturday more than he ever had before. This time the man waited around for him without Jinyoung having to give chase. In fact, he seemed eager to speak to him, the corner of his mouth turned upwards slightly as soon as he saw Jinyoung walking over to him. 

They assumed their booth from before, and Jinyoung enjoyed the sight of him all over again. 'I never caught your name.' 

'Call me JB. Is your name really Junior?' 

'Is yours really JB?' 

The man smirked, 'Touché. I guess we're all undercover in this place.' 

'And what disguise are you wearing?' 

'I wear so many I wouldn't know which to choose.' 

'Well, which one do you wear the most?' 

'You're smart.' 

'Does that shock you?' 

'No, it's a pleasant surprise. You don't seem to be pandering to me.' The man smiled, and Jinyoung wondered how a guy like him could be lonely enough to be in a place like this. 'I get pandered to enough outside of this place. All I want to do when I'm here is drink and watch other people perform, rather than be the one performing. Outside of these walls I'm just another business mans son, straight and taking far too long to marry, and even longer to enlist. Inside I'm just another sad old git paying attractive men to smile at them.' 

'I wouldn't have taken you for the sharing type.' 

'What gave you that impression? Besides, I'm paying you to listen.'  

'I'd listen anyway.' 

'You're good at this.' JB said after looking at Jinyoung for a long moment. 

'At what?' 

'Deluding people into falling for you.'  

A small, shy small was on his lips even as he tried to hide it with a quick sip of his drink, but Jinyoung saw it, and he wished he'd met this guy somewhere else. Somewhere he wasn't obligated to keep a professional distance or remain neutral for the sake of his research. Because if these factors weren't involved, he was pretty sure he'd be in his lap by now. 

'Ah, if you're feeling deluded that's no fault of mine. I'm being honest with you.' 

'Oh! And why do I, of all your customers, deserve this honesty?' JB leaned in with mirth in his eyes, and the whole situation was feeling dangerously flirtatious.  

'Because I can see you think differently, and that interests me.'  

'You have an ulterior motive.'  

'I want to interview you. For my thesis.' JB sat up a little straighter with a raised eyebrow, though it wasn't mocking as much as it was impressed. 'You weren't expecting me to be writing a thesis?'  

'A pleasant surprise, but I'm not sure about participating.'  

'I'll make sure your sessions will be free, drink included.'  

'That's not the problem.' 

'Then what?'  

'Keep me anonymous.'  

'I don't know your real name anyway.'  

'I suppose that's true. Then there's one condition.' He set his glass down on the table, leaning his arm on the headrest of the booth.  

'And that would be?'  

'I get to interview you, too.'  

'As you wish, though you'll find me rather boring.'  

JB just smiled honestly, and Jinyoung couldn't find a lie in his eyes. 'You don't know half of the people I'm forced to speak to every day. You're a dancer in a gay bar interviewing his clients for a thesis, how could you ever be boring?'


	2. Two

Every weekend Jinyoung couldn't wait to finish his number, craving his hour with Jaebum and the answers he might give to his questions. The game they played, of Jinyoung asking only what he was comfortable to also answer, became more and more tricky as Jaebum twisted everything into a segue of flirtation. Needless to say, Jinyoung was fighting himself to stay neutral. 

'I know what I'm doing.' He stated firmly one night as Jackson sat on the bed across from him with eyes that told Jinyoung just how little he believed him. 

'Don't let your dick interfere with your future.' 

Jinyoung scoffed, rolling his eyes as he threw himself back against his pillows. 'Don't be crass.' 

'I'm serious, either stop using him as an interviewee or get to grips with the fact that you shouldn't be falling for your customers in the first place.' 

'I'm not falling for him! Christ, I'm not a little girl-' 

'Then stop acting like one, Jinyoung.' Jackson chuckled, leaning over to pat his face teasingly. 'I've actually had customers complain to me because they never get a chance to sit with you anymore. What am I supposed to say? It's terribly unprofessional, as cute as you both are, giggling like teenagers.' 

Jinyoung groaned into his pillow, swatting at Jackson's hands as he made a show of pinching his cheeks and cooing. Eventually he gave in, sitting up with a defeated sigh. 'What would you do?' 

'The benevolent Jinyoung asks my humble advice?' Jackson feigned surprise, enjoying the pout on Jinyoung's lips before he simply shrugged with a sly smirk. 'I'd bang him without thinking of the consequences. After that, I'd use my charm and wit to avoid all the trouble that came after. You know I'm a shitty example though; just do as I say, not as I do.' 

'Great advice, Jacks.' 

'Anything for you. Anyway! It's of no consequence, right? I mean, you said you haven't fallen for him.' 

'Remind me not to ask you next time.' 

\- 

 

For a while Jinyoung considered his situation. His mind was filled with anxieties, wondering if he was doing the right thing after all. However, whenever Saturday approached, he couldn't deny how much he looked forward to seeing Jaebum, to being able to openly discuss such personal things in the dim light of a club.

Even so, his conflict would continue when his head hit the pillow on Sunday night, his earphones in as he replayed their conversations on his dictophone. He could hear the smiles in the voices, Jaebum's words laced with flirtation and innuendo, and it was getting harder and harder to keep his thesis neutral and professional. Every word he typed from their conversations was technically the same, yet overwhelmingly cold, distant. It was excruciating to be objective, when he felt anything but.

Jaebum was open about everything, eager to answer his questions with the promise that Jinyoung had to answer the same question too. After a while he realised they were basically having a date every weekend in the strip club, jinyoung in his briefs and Jaebum in a perfect new suit every time, and soon enough he was waking in the night sweating from thoughts of his hands upon him. 

The questions Jinyoung fired became pointed, phrasing them in ways that Jaebum woudn't be able to send them back his way. This way, he could ask exactly what he wanted. Of course, his line of questioning was always somewhat related to his thesis. Somewhat. 

'So, when I dance, what is going through your mind?' 

'That’s unfair.' 

'Howso?' Jinyoung feigned innocence, sipping on his soda and wishing it was alcohol. The summer heat had forced Jaebum to remove his blazer for the first time since he'd caught Jinyoung's attention, revealing a red silk shirt and a tantalising, muscled form beneath. This was the best and worst job he'd ever done.

'You can't answer that. You're cheating.' 

'Are you embarrassed to answer?'

Jaebum smirked at his teasing, leaning his arm over the back of their booth and playing with the rim of his whisky glass. 'I don’t know how to answer. It’s a complicated question.' 

'Just try.' 

A slight huff left his lips, a wry smile flitting before he resigned himself to answer. 'I never came here to watch the stages before. It was on my route home from the office and I could loosen my tie, slump over the bar with a whisky and not be the man I am outside of this place. Then you appeared.' He'd been glancing around before, but now his eyes were burning Jinyoung to a crisp.

'I'd never seen you around before. I couldn’t look at anything but your face. The next time I came my feet just took me to the stage, and suddenly I was waiting for you to come out. You had this look on your face that I just can't explain, I couldn’t stop watching. I thought about whether someone like you would look twice at me, whether I just blended into the rest of the faces gawking at you. Of course there was dirtier stuff, im still a healthy young man.' His face crumpled into embarrassment, shy and young all of a sudden, his cool confidence diminishing to something playful. Suddenly Jinyoung felt as if Jaebum was confessing to him.

'And here I was, thinking you were different.' Jinyoung teased, 'and what was this 'dirtier stuff'?' 

'Is this for your thesis or are you just a pervert?' 

'What you say will be a defining factor as to whether I keep it on or off the record.' Jinyoung winked, and he couldn't quite say whether he leaned a little closer intentionally or not. Jaebum definitely moved closer on purpose, his shyness from before completely shrugged off in place of a ferocity that warmed Jinyoung from deep inside.

'Do you know what you look like half way into your stage?' 

Jinyoung shook his head, and Jaebum swept his tongue over his lower lip, dragging his eyes over him, and his cock jumped with arousal. 'Like sin. Everything you do is so slow, I can see every muscle in your body straining, the sweat dripping off your skin, how you’ve gone a little hard yourself. It makes me wonder how you really look, if you turn the light out before you take your clothes off at night.'

Jinyoung audibly gasped, his throat dry, and Jaebum leaned close to whisper roughly in his ear, low and decadent. 'Would you spread your legs for me like you do for all those men, or would you wait for me to coax them apart? Would you moan or whimper? Would you stare at me the way you do in here, or would you hide your face behind your hand and bite the pillow? Would you ride me or get on your knees so I wouldn’t be able to see your expressions? Has anyone touched you the way I would touch you?' 

Jinyoung was uncomfortably hard, but too aroused to bother hiding his obvious erection or feel embarrassed by how exposed it was, because Jaebum was only looking in his eyes anyway, and Jinyoung was mesmerised. 

'You grabbed me that night, and I said no to speaking with you. I didn’t want to face the fact that you might see me as everyone else would, another lonely business man crawling out of the closet into the arms of a pretty boy who's paid to flutter his eyelashes and say yes. I was afraid you'd judge me, flirt with your mouth and scrutinise me with your eyes. But here we are, and I know you wont be able to use any of that for your thesis, you just wanted to know. Now, ask me another question.'

 

-

 

When he returned home, bone tired and hungry, he threw himself down on his bed with a huff. Things were getting complicated, and his dick was confused more than his brain.

'You had dinner?'

'Holy shit!' Jinyoung nearly fell off the bed, clutching at his chest as Jackson stuck his head out from the bathroom. 'I didn't know you were home.'

'I got in half an hour ago.' Jackson smirked, enjoying Jinyoung's near heart attack. 'There's some pizza in the microwave. Should still be edible, I think. I'm gonna hit the hay early tonight so don't keep me up with your angry typing.'

Jinyoung rolled his eyes, muttering that he didn't type angrily as he removed himself to the kitchen anyway. Jackson was wrong about the pizza, it was definitely inedible and very green, so he decided to just grab some cereal instead before returning to the desk in his bedroom and opening his laptop. Jackson was already in bed, covered with his duvet yet glowing in the dark from where he must have been scrolling through his phone. He cracked his knuckles, enveloped in the blue glow of his screen as the system booted up, and he rotated his neck, ready to work well into the night.

It was a few hours after he started listening to his recordings that his earlier conversation with Jaebum approached, his husky voice just about to set him on fire when he paused his dictophone in embarrassment. He immediately ripped out his headphones, jumping up awkwardly and pacing to and fro for a moment. Jackson was asleep now, but he still felt dirty listening to Jaebum's words while his housemate was around. Eventually he decided to just get ready for bed, after all it was pretty late and he'd already done plenty of work. 

After a rather cold, brisk shower, he returned to his desk with a towel around his neck, watching his dictaphone as it lay there as if it were some sleeping dangerous animal. He sat, staring at the contraption before glancing at Jackson sleeping once again. Despite the freezing shower, his cheeks were hot.

His fingers danced their way over his laptop screen, hesitating before closing the lid and plunging the room into darkness. He crawled into bed, careful not to disturb his roommate before he slid his earphones back in, listening to the buzz of the recording as he rewound it. He listened to their conversation from the start, eyes closed, and his hands began their descent down his chest, beneath the cotton of his shirt and over his pebbling nipples. He felt wrong, as if he were hiding porn from his parents. He dragged his fingertips down the ridge in the centre of his torso, past his bellybutton, feeling his hairs stand on end and his lips parting with a gasp at the change in Jaebum's voice just as his hand brushed his cock over the fabric of his boxers.

He broke his trance, pausing the recording as his heart thrummed in his chest and he glanced over at Jackson one more time. His roommate was turned the other way, seemingly sound asleep, so he closed his eyes once again. Jaebum's voice was all around him, and he spread his legs as the older man spoke of them, letting his fingers trail down beneath his boxers, feeling his pubic hair before he winced as he gripped his achingly hard cock, already wet with precum. His other hand trailed down over his thigh soothingly before circling his hole.

He imagined Jaebum was holding him open, looking at him without shame, and it made his cock pulse as he stroked it deliciously slowly. Teasing himself how Jaebum's words were teasing him, imagining a smirk looking down upon him and long, deft fingers playing him like a puppet. He answered all of Jaebum's questions in his mind, thinking of how he wanted Jaebum to watch him, wanted him to spread him open and lay him bare, watch him ride his cock and watch him on his knees, see how much he loved having his cock in his mouth, how loud he could moan, hear how good it felt, how tight he'd clench around him, how much he could roll his hips, and just how wide he could spread his legs. He came with stunted breaths, crying silently into the dark bedroom as Jaebum's voice buzzed in his ears, and he panted, frantically tying to regain coherence before he glanced at Jackson again with stars in his eyes only to see his friend watching him with a smug grin, and his heart stopped. 

Ripping out his headphones and hiding beneath the sheets, too humiliated to move despite the wet discomfort slowly dripping from his torso to the sheets, he cringed at the shit eating grin in Jackson's voice. 

'Yeah, definitely not falling for him.'


	3. 3

Jaebum stood, straightening his tie and nodding to his colleagues as they also got to their feet. ‘Great work today everyone, keep brainstorming and we’ll recommence tomorrow. Let Jung-Ah know I send her my best wishes, Hyuk.’ 

The room emptied, leaving him alone with the large oval table and his own weariness. Once the door was closed he pulled the slate coloured blinds and revelled in the whisper of metal that came with privacy. Only then did he slump back down in his chair at the head of the meeting room, clicking off his laptop and loosening his tie.

He sat until the automatic lights faded to darkness, even until the hum of the janitor vacuuming told him it was way past time to leave. 

Who was this boy? How had he reduced Jaebum to this desperate, lovesick fool. He barely slept, barely ate. He could escape him at times, pushing himself in the gym or ploughing into his paperwork, but it only turned down the volume on his intrusive thoughts.

Was he real? It was foolish to think so, he knew that much, and he raked his fingernails through his clipped and tidy hair, letting out a short breath into the silence at last. He was paying this boy to look at him, to fulfill his fantasies, and he was doing exactly that. He told himself this over and over but there was something in the boys eyes that just... felt honest.

Had Jaebum truly become so lonely that for all his intelligence he could delude himself this easily? That he could be swayed by a sweet smile and a flash of mirth in eyes tinted red by the light?

With a long exhale he got to his feet for the first time in hours, straightened his tie and pulled on his coat.

If he was being deluded, then the delusion was better than his reality and he’d take the escape this boy was offering without hesitation.

He always left the taxi a good block or two away from the club, his eyes darting around at every passer by with paranoia at being caught in his depravity. There was no way anyone would know him around here but his mind still played tricks on him, familiar faces flashing by and causing him to double take every now and then.

The stench of alcohol and sex always took him aback whenever he entered the red haze of the club, neon lights glaring and his dignity retreating to a shadowed corner of his mind.

He was late tonight, and honestly he hadn’t pinned his hopes on Junior still being there. Tonight he just needed some release, even if he found it hunched over the bar with a whisky and the bass of the music numbing his thoughts. 

However as he trudged deeper into the floor, jostled by suit-clad business men and half naked young boys cruising for their pleasure - be it money or a false notion of love - he saw him. If he allowed himself to become even more deluded, he’d allow the thought that it actually looked like the boy was waiting for him.

He was sat alone at their usual spot, sipping at a cola and looking despondently toward the stage. As Jaebum approached he saw another man touch the boys shoulder, and his heart sank. It wasn’t as if Jaebum was the only man allowed to speak with Junior - he was for hire. That didn’t stop the possessive twist in his stomach, the jealousy writhing within him.

The boy seemed startled, turning to the man with a sort of hopeful expression before rolling his eyes and waving him away without a second glance. The man just shrugged and made his way over to his next prey, but Jaebum’s chest swelled. Maybe he was waiting for him, maybe he did belong only to Jaebum.

What an idiot he’d become.

His throat was dry and he wished he’d ordered at the bar before walking over here, his nerves rattling at the lack of liquid courage. Only Junior could reduce him to this insecure mess, and he wondered if he knew, if he thought him an idiot and a rambler, if he listened to a word he said at all.

He sat before the boy, catching his breath before he turned to look at him and took it all away again. God, he seemed to become more beautiful every time. He was smiling at him and it was honest and open for a second, so bright and unguarded it gripped Jaebum’s heart so tightly he had to hold back an audible gasp. But then it was gone, replaced with something smaller as if the boy had caught himself revealing something secret. Again, Jaebum really was deluding himself.

‘I thought you weren’t coming.’

‘Ah, so you were waiting?’

The boy rolled his eyes with a shy smile, and he pushed a glass towards Jaebum with his knuckles. 

‘Whisky on the rocks, yeah?’

‘There’s no ice.’

‘There was. Maybe next time you shouldn’t make me wait.’

If this boy was acting, Jaebum would watch every film he was starring in.

-

He came early tonight. It was rare that he caught the start of Junior’s stage, always sneaking in halfway through so he wouldn’t look so needy and desperate, but tonight he wanted as much of Junior as possible.

Knees spread and hands folded in his lap, he waited with anticipation for the music to start. Lights flickered and a melody began to play, soft and emotional with a quiet dance beat behind it.  
He liked that Junior didn’t always come out hard and heavy, throwing himself around to something filthy and obvious, but instead would move his body with art. It was the slower songs he chose that showed him in his beauty, truly. He stood before Jaebum on the brightly lit stage, a white shirt hanging off his lithe frame that was just a little too big, his slender thighs clad with tight jeans. Barefoot he swayed, writhed and punctuated every sweet word and soft beat with his movements.

At the peak of the song he stripped his shirt away and revealed the waxy white of his chest, his back bent and his lungs heaving from exertion. Jaebum touched him with his eyes, felt the thrum of his pulse in his jutting throat, tasted the sweat dripping down his abdomen and caressed the muscled thighs straining at his jeans.

Jaebum’s lips were dry, and he ran his tongue over them as Junior caught his eye, and he didn’t miss the small upturn of the boys lips or the way his ass swayed a little more from then on.

He moved his hands from his lap, leaning back and gripping his knees, digging his nails in hard. Junior drove him wild without fail, and he breathed deeply, willing his temperature to drop and his heartbeat to steady.

But instead his heart pounded even when the two were finally seated and Junior had wiped away his sweat. Jaebum tilted his glass of whiskey, listening to the ice clink against the glass while he watched Juniors lips move eagerly.

‘I want to read your thesis.’ He stated, stopping Junior mid sentence, and the boy seemed taken aback as he took a moment to respond.

‘Really? It’s awfully dull.’

‘I’m interested. I want to know what you wrote about this place, and all the losers who visit it.’ Jaebum snickered and Junior rolled his eyes at the self depreciation. ‘Truly though. I’d like to read your hard work.’

Junior looked shy, unsure of what to say. His eyes darted here and there and his lips moved to speak before he stopped himself a few times. 

‘You know it’s an academic paper. It won’t read like a novel, it’s opinion and facts and not emotion. You know that?’

‘I know that.’

‘And you still want to read it?’

‘I do.’

Jaebum winked, and Junior bit his lip. 

‘I guess I’ll bring it next time, then.’

 

But when next time came around, Jaebum’s numb fingers clutched at paper dyed red under the lights. His heart thrummed in his ears even louder than the bass rhythm that shook the table ever so slightly, and his throat was tight with anger and hurt. 

The candlelight flickered as he perused the papers Junior had slid between them. Every sentence was cold, every word impersonal. Junior must have caught his change in expression, tentatively asking him what was wrong. In reply, he simply read aloud with a scratch in his voice that utterly humiliated him.

'I regularly interacted with a client, who I will refer to as Mr Im. Mr. Im was more than happy to discuss his personal affairs with me, though this was very obviously due to an attraction to me on his part. I remain objective and uninvolved when considering Mr Im’s feelings, which are obvious and in no way affected my research or point of view considering my interview methods for this particular subject. For him the club was, as he described it "So different from the world [he] live[s] in." and that he doesn't "...have to deal with stress like you do at work, you can be real." Mr Im was younger than most of the clientele that frequented the club, handsome and obviously wealthy. However, the pressures of being single and unmarried, as well as his need to stay closeted were apparent, hence his fixation on me."'

The paper was slowly crumpling in his trembling grip, and Junior remained silent. It took a few moments before Jaebum could draw his eyes away from the page to fix upon Junior's guilty, beautiful face. 'I have a fixation, do I?'

'It's a thesis - I have to write objectively.' Junior protested weakly, voice thin and eyes downward. 

'At one point you write that I'm living in a false, fantasy world. That coming here is a way of running away from problems I can't face up to.'

'Am I wrong?' Junior met his eyes now, and Jaebum's stomach turned.

'I...' Jaebum bit his lip, shook his head. He tossed the papers back to Junior, standing and collecting his coat from the back of his seat with a weight in his chest he almost though would drag him back down. 'I should've known.' His voice cracked, and he hated it. 'At the end of the day, you get what you pay for. I was stupid to believe you would be any different. I’ll take my obvious attraction to you elsewhere, I guess it’s my folly for thinking you were anything but objective to it.'

‘JB-’

'It's Mr Im, to you, right?. I shouldn’t have let that slip, really - you must have forgotten my wish for anonymity. It’s not exactly a common surname.'

He stood, and he couldn’t look at the boys face at all. If he did, he knew his legs wouldn’t take him anywhere and he’d crumble right there and then.

Cool air rushed against his heated cheeks when he was finally outside, free of the thick, sweaty air of the club. However, the ache in his chest didn't subside, his attempts at collecting himself failing until his fist was flying at the rough brick of the building, his knuckles cracking as his teeth came together in a pained grimace. He groaned, yelled, kicked at the ground. 

He was a fool. 

He hailed a cab, and pressed his forehead to the cool glass of the window pane, watching the neon nights fade out of view. No matter how far away it took him, though, the boys face was burned into the back of his eyelids. His smile, the wit of his tongue and the mirth in his eyes.

How on Earth had he fallen in love with this boy who sold his affection for money? Jaebum was a man of intelligence, worldly wise and travelled. He was well groomed, wealthy, had a name for himself and a world to inherit. Was he truly so lonely that a heated glance and the curve of a smile could sway him to distraction? The boy had appeared brilliant and blinding, so different to all that Jaebum had perused in the club. He was a drop of water in the desert, refreshing Jaebum from the montonous, dry life he led day in and day out. 

But this brilliant boy had seen through him, to his very core, and printed it on paper. He'd reduced him to a surname and showed the world his depravity, his utter sameness to all the sad souls that visited that place. 

He wasn't angry at Junior. The boy had been honest, though his heart churned and twisted with the feeling of betrayal, all that had been betrayed was his own fantasy. Junior had shared his work with Jaebum, there wasn't any malice in that decision, only wholehearted honesty. And Jaebum had ran from it like a child confronted with his own faults, rather than seeing the gesture for what it was. 

He tipped the driver, unlocking the door to his apartment with numb, clumsy fingers. The sound of the door clicking open echoed throughout the emptiness of the stagnant hole he called home. Cold slate greys and rich wine reds were the only colours thrown around here and there, hard lines in his furniture and not a single personal effect that could identify the place as his own. 

Impersonal and cold, he guessed that maybe it truly did reflect himself.

He showered with his head pressed to the tiled wall, letting the hot spray burn the skin of his back as he sobbed, racked with a misplaced feeling of betrayal he knew was just his own insecurities that he’d pushed onto this boy. 

When he lay down to sleep he ached, not in his muscles or with hunger, but in his chest. For the boy who’s name he didn’t even know.

-

Months trailed by as Jaebum buried himself in his work, arranging meetings that didn’t need to be held and working himself so hard even his father pressed him to take a day off. He was worried about his health, apparently. It was more like he was worried everyone would see how miserable he was, and that wouldn’t look good at all, not from his eldest, his special project.

So he sat at home for a week, barely moving from his sofa as he watched series after series of a show he didn’t know if he actually liked. The characters spoke to each other in such a false and far fetched way, easily confessing their attractions and talking about their feelings an worries and wants. And when things went wrong and they just couldn’t get it together and be in love he felt like snapping his tv in half because for gods sake couldn’t they let him fantasise that love could exist? That it could be so easy as to look at someone and know it was right and not have to hurt and ache and wonder.

So he took a walk. Just to get out, he’d told himself. He needed some fresh air.

Somehow a need for fresh air had taken him to a familiar place where the air definitely wasn’t fresh, and he wandered through the crowd dishevelled and numb, feeling his heart pound in anticipation. But when he glanced at their table, the beautiful boy wasn’t there waiting for him. 

He’d told himself he was an idiot for expecting it. Jaebum hadn’t been there in months, the boy had probably found a new toy to play with, one that paid better and talked a little less. So he told himself he’d come next week. And when next week came around and Junior was still nowhere to be seen, then maybe next week he’d be there. 

Next week always led to next week. Junior was gone and Jaebum was mad with the need to see his face, to see that secret smile and the laughter in his eyes. He just wanted to apologise, or at least that’s what he was telling himself every time he dragged himself into the club looking like a mess, eyes roaming wildly for a glimpse of dark hair and wicked eyes.

It was two months into his madness that someone found him, but it wasn’t Junior.

A boy slightly shorter than Jaebum laid a hand on his shoulder, his grip strong enough that he couldn’t be shaken off, and Jaebum was ready to knock the kid out before he recognised him. 

‘Hey, aren’t you the guy? You’re the guy right?’

‘The guy?’ Jaebum muttered, bewildered. 

‘The guy who broke Jinyoung’s heart.’

‘I what? Who?’

His questions went unanswered as he was dragged from the club by this absurdly strong boy, and he stumbled when the cold air hit him, breathing hard. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

The boy smirked. ‘I’m gonna kick your ass.’

He put his fists up and shifted, making a move to lunge and Jaebum raised his palms in surrender. However, the kid didn’t care, swinging hard and connecting with Jaebum’s jaw with a raw thud that dropped him to the ground.

‘For God’s sake I haven’t done anything! I’ll get you arrested you little prick!’ 

‘Yeah talk that big talk from the ground, dick. Jinyoung showed you that shit because you asked him to. He’d worked his ass off on that and you spat in his face.’

‘Jinyoung?’

‘Yeah, Jinyoung. Junior, then. That ring a bell?’ ‘Jackson scoffed, ‘you didn’t even know his name?’

‘I - he never told me. For fucks sake stop hitting me!’ Jaebum kicked at the shorter man from the pavement, out of breath and bewildered. ‘Where is he? I haven’t seen him in months.’

The boy rolled his eyes, ‘He quit not long after you shoved his thesis up his ass.’ 

‘Is he okay? How can I speak to him?’ Jaebum got to his feet, straightening his clothes and doing nothing to hide the desperation in his voice. 

‘That’s not my information to give.’ The boy shrugged, and he walked away, leaving Jaebum with a bloody nose and a heart even sorer than before.

Jaebum wasn’t easily swayed, though. He had a name, as common as it was. There was only one college in the city, and he would wander around campus on his days off work asking any random student if they know a boy named Jinyoung.

It took a good month, and he was surprised nobody called the police before then, but at last he was stood before a dorm, his heart racing in his chest. His fist trembled when he brought it up to rap on the wood, too gently. Nobody would of heard it. So he pounded instead, consumed by anxiety and impatience until he was met with a confused but beautifully familiar face.

And his tongue began to dance behind his teeth. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry - I was an idiot. Do you even remember me? Christ, you must think I’m insane but I can’t get you out of my head, I just needed to see you again and apologise-‘

It was in the midst of his rambling that his vision shifted from Jinyoung’s shock and perplexion to the boy sat on his bed looking just as confused, and his heart dropped to the floor.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company. You must be embarrassed, I’ll leave - I’m sorry.’ He turned to leave, red faced and heartbroken, but a strong hand grabbed at his arm and pulled him back into the room. He stared dumbly into Jinyoung’s face as the younger man smacked him gently over the head and rolled his eyes.

‘Hey, Mark, could you give me a bit of privacy? Sorry, man.’ 

The boy on the bed nodded hurriedly, gathering his things and scurrying from the room without pause, and Jinyoung closed the door behind him with a heavy sigh. 

‘He’s just a friend. You really have a problem with jumping to conclusions. Not to mention it wouldn’t matter if he was more than that, I mean, there’s nothing between us right?’

‘I fucked up.’

‘You were hurt, I understand that. But you asked and I gave and you ran.’

‘You don’t know what kind of world I come from. I panicked. You’re the only thing I had in my life to look forward to, the only person I had to talk to honestly. Reading that... reading myself as words on paper I just.’ He felt his chest hitch as he fought back a small sob and he hated how much this hurt. ‘It was so cold and detached and I felt like a fool for believing you could ever love someone as depraved as me-‘

In a moment he was pressed up hard against a chest of drawers, Jinyoung’s fists balled in the front of his shirt and his lips hot and insistent against his own. And Jaebum kissed back despite the handles jabbing him in all the wrong places, finally laying his hands upon  
Jinyoung’s body, his waist, his broad shoulders.

He was strong, but Jaebum was stronger and they fought against eachother until Jaebum grabbed the younger mans thighs and carried him, dumping him on the bed roughly. He stood there at the foot of the bed and loosened his tie, breathing heavily and drinking in the sight of Jinyoung lying there dishevelled and wanton and waiting for him.

He crawled atop the younger man and traced the contours of his face, looking down upon him at his hair splayed out on his pillow, his lips kiss reddened and plump and his eyes almost black as they stared straight back at him. The image of him on stage was a pale ghost of the reality before him, a whisper of how truly debauched he could look, and Jaebum could barely catch his breath.

‘Kiss me, for God’s sake.’ Jinyoung muttered, smirking shyly, and Jaebum didn’t need to be told twice. Their tongues entwined and their hips collided, Jinyoungs hands gripping at Jaebum’s shoulder blades hard enough to bruise. The older mans deft fingers delved beneath Jinyoung’s t-shirt, savouring the feel of his skin, of the soft hairs on his abdomen and how he twitched and writhed under his touch. 

Jinyoung’s hand found his own and guided him to massage the hardness in his jeans, gasping at the contact. Jaebum could only watch the expressions flitting across the younger mans face as he palmed him, his dark eyes dancing between half-lidded pleasure to wide-eyed and confident, practically begging to be fucked.

The younger man licked at the shell of his ear, driving shivers up his spine, and his hot breath made his cock jump in his boxers. ‘Do you remember that night you told me all the things you’d do to me? How you wondered I’d ride you or if I’d bite the pillow and let you fuck me into the mattress?’ They we’re grinding hard against each other now, and Jaebum could barely form coherent speech at the filthy tone of Jinyoung’s voice. ‘I listened to the recording almost every night, you know?’ Jinyoung bit at Jaebum’s earlobe, and let out a small whimper. ‘Fuck, I want to see your cock.’

Jaebum was on his knees like lightning, but Jinyoung’s fingers found his belt before he could, freeing his hot and heavy cock and making the older man moan with relief. The way Jinyoung looked at him could’ve finished him off right then, wide eyes fixed on his erection as he crawled towards him, lips wet and ass high.

He took Jaebum into his mouth without warning, sucking him deep and wet and dangerous. He gagged and choked and his eyes began to tear but he never took his eyes off Jaebum, and the older man gripped at his hair to find some grounding in reality before he came way too fast. 

‘Fuck, don’t work so hard Jinyoungie...’

The younger man pulled away with an indecently wet noise, voice scratchy and thick. ‘Why, don’t you like it?’

‘Ah,’ Jaebum groaned, wishing his wet lips were gripping his cock once again. ‘I like it a little too much. If you carry on I’ll be done before I get to fuck your tight little-‘

He choked on his tongue, engulfed by Jinyoung’s heat as he sucked hard and deep, his tongue tracing his veins expertly as if he wanted him to come right there and then. And the second their eyes met, he couldn’t stop himself.

He shook apart as Jinyoung swallowed him down eagerly, draining him and causing humiliating sounds to leave his lips. When his vision came back he could see the cum coating his cock and how Jinyoung was still working him hard with a spark in his eyes that told him he knew exactly what he was doing. 

So he pushed him away, revelled in how sore and red his lips were, how his chin was wet with saliva and how he smirked despite it all. He spread the younger mans thighs roughly, removing his jeans and boxers and laying him bare. To Jaebum’s egotistical delight, the smug little git actually looked embarrassed by his display, his eyes darting here and there as his arousal was hard to hide, standing up rigid and proud and pink.

Jaebum didn’t want to play with that yet, though, instead spreading the boy wide and planting wet kisses on his balls, trailing a path down to his hole and licking hard, feeling him twist and writhe and whine. ‘Fuck, oh fuck.’ Jinyoung breathed, his voice strained and thick with arousal. ‘Please eat my ass, JB, please. Fuck-‘

Jaebum didn’t need to be told twice, fucking the boy with his tongue as he shuddered and shook and whimpered and breathed filthy words into his pillow. He could feel himself growing hard all over again, and he pressed his index finger to Jinyoung’s lips, having to close his eyes at the sensation of the younger man sucking on it eagerly.

He pressed his finger insistently against Jinyoung’s hole, and listened to the boys soft gasp as it slipped in without much asking, followed by a second, a third, each finger drawing noises from him rawer and rougher until his hips were bucking against him desperately.

‘You want my cock?’

‘Please - please...’

'Say my name.' He kneeled, spreading Jinyoung's knees and letting the head of his cock brush against the younger mans twitching hole. 'You've never said my name,' he breathed, aroused beyond cohesion yet desperate still to have this boy acknowledge him, for them to be more than a client and a stripper. 'Call me Jaebum.'

Jinyoung stared up at him for a moment too long, long enough that it was obvious he knew what Jaebum needed. Long enough that Jaebum heard no trace of coyness, no filth or smut when he whispered his name, only honesty and a promise.

'Jaebum, please-'

With a guttural groan almost akin to a sob, Jaebum pressed hard against Jinyoung and the younger man threw his head back. Disregarding Jaebum's obvious efforts to go slow and be gentle, he pressed the balls of his feet into the older mans hips and ground down against him, forcing him to fill him to the hilt.

His toes were curled as his body tightened, his back curved Iike a bow away from the mattress and against Jaebum's sweaty chest. He gasped feverishly, eyes wild and searching, and Jaebum claimed his lips messily. Moans slipped from their rushed breaths as their lips collided brutally and Jaebum's hips snapped back and forth. 

Jinyoungs fingers raked at Jaebum's broad back as he choked on his own sighs, yet his eyelids would only flutter shut in a momentary wave of pleasure, otherwise his gaze was fixed upon the older man. And Jaebum was entranced by him, his heart aching at the sight.

Because though Jaebum had shared a bed with a man before, it had never been like this. It had been seedy and secretive, carnal and animalistic. They'd known the risk and the consequences and the shame, but the need to touch a mans flesh had been overwhelming.

Now it was beyond such base needs. With Jinyoung he could derive pleasure just by being near him, feel a thrill simply feeling his breath against his ear. With his past partners he hadn't cared for their needs, but now he was desperate to make Jinyoung cry out, to watch him shudder apart and let go.

And when he bent down to bite at the younger mans earlobe, he watched the world collapse inside him. Jinyoung's mouth was agape with wonder, unrestrained sounds of awe dripping from his lips as he tightened around Jaebum. His grip was tight on the older mans biceps and his eyes were squeezed shut, to the point where someone could easily mistake him for being in agony. 

Jaebum buried his nose in the crook of Jinyoung's neck, pressing open kisses to the soft, slick skin there as he was overcome. The younger man still trembled around him as he thrust erratically, losing all control and feeling strong hands soothing stripes down his sweat slick back.

The world swallowed him, and he awoke in Jinyoung's arms dazed and weak and slightly embarrassed. He moved to look at him and saw a small smile resting upon the boys lips and his shame ebbed, replaced with a warmth and an acceptance he had never felt within himself before.

'Should we start again?' Jinyoung sighed, and his voice was gravelly from exertion.

'Please.'

'My names Park Jinyoung. I'm doing my masters and I like books and ballads and small dogs. I used to be a stripper but it wasn't as wild as I thought it was going to be so I got back in my pyjamas. And you are?'

Jaebum smirked slightly, moving so he could see Jinyoung's face properly and drinking in the mirth that seemed to light his dark eyes. The eyes he fell in love with so many months ago.

'Im Jaebum. I'm nobody until my father dies and I honestly don't know how to be somebody, but I have a feeling I'm starting to work that out.'

'That's rubbish, come on!' Jinyoung scowled.

'It's true, I don't do anything but work and I never have-'

'You like whisky.'

'That's-'

'And you like dressing nice. You're funny, attentive. Smart, but not as smart as me-'

Jaebum scoffed. 'You don't know me at all. I think I might have done too well in wooing you.'

'No. You were abysmal at it.' Jinyoung smirked, and it slowly faded into a warm smile. 'I might not know you that well but I think you know yourself even less.'

'What if I'm an absolute prick?' Jaebum sighed, and Jinyoung shrugged.

'Then I'll dump you. Until then-' he brought his hand before Jaebum's face with his palm outstretched. 'It's nice to meet you.'

Jaebum took Jinyoung's hand and kissed it instead of giving him a handshake, and he pulled the younger man to his chest.

His mind turned and twisted and Jinyoung fell asleep

And he wondered if Jinyoung would stick around while Jaebum figured out who he was and what he wanted and where he wanted to go.

With a sigh, his worries dissipated and he watched Jinyoung's eyes flickering in his sleep. It didn't matter, really. As long as he could enjoy this now or one more time, maybe even more, he was happy simply knowing who this beautiful boy was.

He pressed a soft kiss into his short brown hair, and he wished he was more.

'It's nice to meet you too.'


End file.
